The Peanut Butter Caper
by MaverickLover2
Summary: A most unusual case, involving a frantic mother, a determined little boy, and peanut butter.
1. Chapter 1

The Peanut Butter Caper

Chapter 1

It was several weeks after Jerry East handed Stuart a nice fat check for finding out where all his profits at Eastmill Paper Company were going. Things at Bailey and Spencer had been rather calm; they were busy but nothing out of the ordinary. Two small investigations for Protective Insurance Company, a case of blackmail, a case of check fraud, and a case of jewelry theft they turned down.

All that changed when a woman of about forty walked in the front door. Saying that she walked was a misnomer; she came closer to running than walking. "May I help you?" Suzanne asked politely.

"Is Mr. Bailey in?" she asked, almost out of breath.

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Bailey should be arriving within the next hour or so. His flight is just landing at LAX now."

"What about Mr. Spencer?" There was a note of desperation creeping into her voice.

"Mr. Spencer is in. May I tell him who wants to see him?"

"My name is Fowler. Elizabeth Fowler, though I'm sure that won't mean anything to him."

Suzanne took a good look at the woman while she buzzed Jeff. She looked like the average housewife; dressed a little better and wearing a little more makeup, with auburn hair pulled back neatly into a bun. "Jeff, it's Elizabeth Fowler. She seems quite upset. Alright."

"You can go in, Mrs. Fowler."

Elizabeth Fowler went into Jeff Spencer's office and began what would forever be known as the Peanut Butter Caper.

XXXXXXXX

"Have a seat, Mrs. Fowler. It is Mrs. Fowler, isn't it?"

"It is," she answered, and immediately burst into tears.

Jeff produced a box of tissues. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes. Yes it can. No, actually, it's worse."

Jeff got up and got her a glass of water from his hideaway bar. "Here, drink this, then tell me what the problem is."

Jeff had taken nothing that might get complicated since his return from the dead. He was, to say the least, a bit gun-shy. But Stu wasn't there and Kookie was already out chasing rabbits. Roscoe, well Roscoe was at the track. As usual. So Jeff felt obligated to hear what Mrs. Fowler had to say.

When she was finally ready to talk, she spun what seemed like a simple tale. "My son David disappeared not long after breakfast this morning, and I can't find him anywhere."

"How old is David, Mrs. Fowler?"

"Please call me Elizabeth. He's six, Mr. Spencer, but he isn't like normal boys."

"Little boys disappear all the time, Elizabeth. I'm sure he'll come home later," Jeff smiled his most reassuring smile.

"You don't understand, Mr. Spencer. David isn't like other little boys."

"All mothers think that, Elizabeth. And I'm Jeff, by the way."

She looked even more distraught than she had when she came in. "David has Type One Diabetes, Jeff. He's had it since he was two years old, but that doesn't mean he understands it, or what happens when he doesn't get his insulin shots. Lately he's become obsessed with peanut butter, and no matter how many times I explain why he can't have any, he persists in wanting it. We had another argument this morning at breakfast; he wanted peanut butter on his toast and I explained why he couldn't have it. Twenty minutes later he was gone. Just gone. I tried looking for him, I even got in the car and drove around the neighborhood calling for him. Then I went home and phoned all of his friend's mothers. No one has seen him. I have to find him, Jeff. It's a matter of life or death."

"Have you called the police?" Jeff knew what the answer was going to be, but he asked the question anyway.

"Right away. They can't do anything until he's been missing twenty-four hours. He could be dead in twenty-four hours, Jeff. I have to find him. I'll pay you anything you want. Just please, please say that you'll help me." And with that she buried her head in her hands and sobbed again.

"Mrs. Fowler. Elizabeth. I'll help you, but it won't do any good if you make yourself sick from crying. I need you to pull yourself together and promise me you'll do your best to stay that way."

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer . . . Jeff. David's all I have left in this world. His father died before he was born. If I lost him . . . "

"We won't let that happen, Elizabeth. Did you drive over?"

"Yes, I did. Are you going to follow me home?"

"Yes, ma'am. Give me the make, model, year, color and license plate." The P.I. sat behind his desk, ready to write down everything she told him.

"It's a Nash Rambler, sedan, made in 1954. License plate BBF 675. I live at 163 North Hollywood Street. It's easy to find."

"Got it. Let's go."

"Is Kookie back yet, Suzanne?" Jeff asked as they headed out the front door.

"No, Jeff, he's picking Stuart up at LAX. They should be back shortly. Shall I leave a message?"

Jeff nodded slightly. "Yes, but not for Kookie. For Stuart. Tell him I need him right away at this address. And Suzanne, tell him to hurry. It's a matter of life and death."

"What shall I tell him it's about, Jeff?"

"It's about a little boy . . . and peanut butter."

Jeff got Elizabeth's car and pulled it upfront for her before telling her, "I'll have mine in a minute. When you see me pull up behind you, head home. I'll follow you there."

Some fifteen minutes later Kookie pulled up in Stuart's car, with the owner of same dozing in the front seat. "Hey, wake up, dad. We're here."

Stu yawned and stretched his arms. "So soon?"

"Sorry to say, but yeah."

"Kookie, go into Dino's and get me a very large coffee, would you? That's a good lad."

Kookie headed for Dino's and Stu headed for the front door. "Any messages?" he asked Suzanne as he got inside.

"Only one that won't wait. Jeff said he needs you at this address as soon as you can get there."

"Is this a new client? I don't recognize the address."

Suzanne nodded. "Oui. He's only been gone fifteen minutes. And he said to hurry, it's a matter of life and death."

Stuart looked concerned. "Did he say what it's about?"

"Oui. A small boy and peanut butter. Don't look at me like that. Stuart. He was very serious."

"Alright." Kookie had just walked in with Stuart's coffee. "Come on, Kookie, we've got an emergency on North Hollywood Street. I need you to drive, please, lest I fall asleep on the way there."

"What kind of an emergency, dad?"

"A very small one, evidently. I'll be back, Suzanne." And Stu rushed back out the front door, drinking coffee as he and Kookie left. "How does Jeff find these things?"

"You don't expect an answer, right, dad?"

"Right."

1


	2. Chapter 2

The Peanut Butter Caper

Chapter 2

Jeff had already begun checking every nook and cranny in the small Fowler home by the time Stu got there. He was out on the front porch looking for a trap door somewhere when Bailey and Kookie pulled up. "Is it bigger than a breadbox?" Stu questioned ironically.

"Very funny. I'd laugh if it wasn't so accurate."

"What's the story, Jeff? What are we doing here? I'm just about whipped, so this better be important."

"It is. It's as important as a little boy's life." Jeff's voice was flat, with none of his usual good-humor or optimism present.

"Give it to me," Stuart directed his partner.

"David Fowler is six years old. Mother is single. David has Type One Diabetes, and an affinity for the peanut butter he shouldn't have. He's been missing since right after breakfast, where he brought up peanut butter again. Mrs. Fowler is frantic that he won't be found in time and of course, the police won't do anything until twenty-four hours has passed. He could be dead by that time, Stu. She doesn't know if he wandered off or was snatched by someone."

"What's been done so far?'"

"Checked the house, both by Elizabeth, Mrs. Fowler to you, and me. I thought of several places she didn't, but he's not in any of them. She drove the neighborhood and called his friend's mothers. Nothing. There's nothing missing but David so far as she knows. No ransom demands, but you just never know. I can't babysit the phone and comb the neighborhood at the same time. How do you want to split this up?"

Once again, Stu noticed that Jeff seemed fairly deferential to him. It was time the little bird flew, even if Stuart had to push him out of the nest. "You're the lead on this one. Tell me what you want me to do."

There was panic in Jeff's eyes for just a moment; then it disappeared and the Jeff Spencer Stuart knew took over. "Alright, Kookie I want you out searching the neighborhood, this time on foot. You stay by the phone, just in case." Kookie left to check the neighborhood.

Just as Jeff finished, Elizabeth Fowler walked out on the front porch. "Elizabeth, Mrs. Fowler, this is my partner, Stu Bailey. Stu, Elizabeth Fowler."

Stu smiled at her almost as reassuringly as Jeff had. "Happy to meet you, Mrs. Fowler. Sorry it's under these circumstances. Please call me Stu."

"And I'm Elizabeth. Is it just the two of you? What about the young man I saw leaving?"

"That was Kookie. We sent him out on foot to canvass the neighborhood. I'm going to stay here with you and babysit the phone. Just in case someone took him and they're holding him for ransom."

"Jeff's already explained to me that it's not likely someone took him. We don't have anything anyone would want. Except David. He means everything to me, Stu. Even if he is the most stubborn little boy. Especially when it comes to peanut butter." She paused for just a moment. "Anyway, it will be nice to have adult company. "

Stuart reached out and took Elizabeth's hand. "We're going to find him. Don't you worry about that." There was something so comforting in Stu's manner that Elizabeth immediately believed him.

"Well, how about a cup of coffee for everyone? I just made a fresh pot. I'll go get cups." She walked back into the small kitchen and Jeff turned to his partner.

"How do you do that? I told her we'd do our best and she still seemed shaky, but your reassurance sealed the deal."

Stuart laughed a little and shrugged his shoulders. "With age comes wisdom." He chuckled a little more before adding, "It's the gray hair and the wrinkles."

Jeff gave him a friendly slug on the shoulder. "And you don't have either one, you . . . faker."

Stu, once again, got serious. "Alright, we've sent the hound out in the field to sniff around, and I'm on guard duty. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see Gil and let him know what's going on. Just because they can't investigate for twenty-four hours doesn't mean they can't keep their eyes open for a small boy. Then I'm going to talk to the officers in the patrol cars. Make them aware of how important it is that we find him. Stu . . . keep her calm, will you? It can't be easy for her, with a persistent little boy and no husband in the picture."

"Divorced?" Stu asked.

"Widowed, before David was born. That's all I know. You'll have to find out the rest from Elizabeth."

Elizabeth returned with cups and the coffee just as Jeff finished. She was doing her best to hold it all together and appear lighthearted. She poured three cups and set the coffee pot down. "Do you need anything for your coffee?"

"No, thank you," Jeff answered quickly.

"No, Elizabeth, black is fine," came a little slower, from Stu.

Jeff took his cup and headed for the precinct. Stuart and Elizabeth sat down at the kitchen table. He'd looked around the house earlier and noticed that it was as neat as a pin. No clothes needing to be hung up, no papers stacked up to be taken out to the trash. Elizabeth and David looked like very neat people.

"So, Jeff tells me you're a widow? How long has that been? I'm not trying to be nosy, Elizabeth, I just want to get a complete picture of your life here."

"It's alright, Stu, ask any questions you need to. My husband's name was Michael. He died before David was born, in an auto accident. The other driver was drunk. Michael was just coming home from work like any another day, and then . . . he wasn't. Funny, you don't expect drunk drivers on the road at four o'clock in the afternoon. Our lawyer sued the other man's insurance company, and we got . . . let's just say we got enough to pay off the mortgage, and I didn't have to go back to work once David was born.

"Then when David was two years old, the doctor found Diabetes. It's not bad, but I hate it when I have to tell him he can't have something because of it. Like the peanut butter. For some reason all the children at school want peanut butter cookies at break-time. They have a lot of sugar in them and David shouldn't eat them, and he so desperately wants to. As he gets older he'll understand why, but for right now he's just a frustrated six-year-old boy who wants peanut butter."

Stu chortled. "Sounds like any normal six-year-old to me. Has he ever run away before, Elizabeth?"

"Only once, and it was Diabetes-related, too. He wanted a cat, and I told him no cat until he was older. Cat scratches can become infected so easily. And it's easier to say no than to say yes, but you can't touch the cat. He ran all the way to the end of the driveway before turning back."

"And what does he do about going to bed? Does he have a hard time with that; does he fight bedtime?"

"No, not really. As long as I read him a story he doesn't argue."

"What if you're busy?"

"I'm never too busy for my son, Mr. Bailey. Do you have any children?"

"Me? No, I'm not married."

Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled. She was quite attractive when she smiled. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea of what David looked like. "Do you have a picture, Mrs. Fowler? Something taken in the last three months or so. When they're that young they change so rapidly ."

Elizabeth had started rooting through her purse. When they were at Zayle's last week they passed a photo machine, and David insisted they had to have pictures. She found her wallet and looked through it. There they were, in the spot reserved for special pictures. Actually that's where the money was supposed to go, but she didn't have any of that, so that's where she put pictures. She pulled the photos out of her wallet and handed them to Stu.

"He looks just like you, Elizabeth. Is there any more of that coffee left?"

Stu poured coffee for both of them, and they sat and talked about David for hours. The phone never rang.

1


	3. Chapter 3

The Peanut Butter Caper

Chapter 3

Gil listened to the whole story and then shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Jeff, my hands are tied until the boy's been missing for twenty-four hours. You know that."

"I know, Gil, but that's officially. I'm just asking for your men to keep their eyes open, unofficially."

"I don't have a problem with that, as long as they do their jobs and don't go looking for a kid that's possibly a runaway."

"You're probably right, but I gotta cover all the bases, anyway. His mother's frantic and I promised to help."

"How'd you get roped into this, anyway? Are Bailey and Spencer that hard up for work?"

"Don't get ugly, Gil. The boys got Diabetes and needs insulin shots. And he's got a jones for cookies that he's not supposed to eat. That's not a good combination. I felt sorry for her."

Gil was silent for a minute. "Alright, gimme a description and I'll put it out over the radio."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." Jeff handed him one of the pictures he'd gotten from Elizabeth Fowler.

"Cute kid." Gil handed the photo back when he'd written a description. "I hope you find him, Jeff, before he becomes another statistic."

"That makes two of us."

Jeff went out via the side door and found two of the three cars that usually patrolled the area David and Elizabeth Fowler lived in. He had a discussion with the drivers and explained the situation; they each promised to be on the lookout for David. The third car was out on a call. On his way back to the house he racked his brain trying to think of anything he'd missed but he couldn't come up with anything. Maybe Stu or Kookie had found David, and he was worrying about nothing. Maybe.

XXXXXXXX

The car was old, a forty-eight or forty-nine Chevy, and it was so dusty that you couldn't tell what color it was. That was the whole idea, of course. The driver turned down North Hollywood Street and drove slowly, looking to see what he could find. It had been a slow week and he needed to find a little boy. So far, nothing. He drove the street all the way down to Thomas Avenue and turned right. If he'd turned left he would have found a little blonde-headed boy sitting all by himself at a picnic table. But he didn't.

XXXXXXXX

"Any calls?"

Stu looked up from the game of 'Old Maid' he was playing with Elizabeth and shook his head. "Not one. How'd it go with Gil?"

"About like I expected. Hear anything from Kookie?"

"No."

"I'm going out on the porch to smoke. Coming with me?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry, Elizabeth." Stu got up and followed Jeff onto the porch. "What did you find out that you don't want her to hear?"

"That's just it. I didn't hear anything but I don't want Elizabeth to know that. What do we do now, Stu?" Jeff looked discouraged.

"Nothing, Jeff. We just wait."

They didn't have to wait long. About ten minutes later Kookie came running into the house, so out of breath that he couldn't talk. "Somebody saw him sitting at a picnic table on Thomas Street not five minutes ago."

Jeff dug his keys out of his pocket. "Let's go."

Down North Hollywood they went, until they made a left on Thomas Avenue. They saw the picnic table, but not David. Jeff pulled the car to the curb and all three men got out and went searching. They looked behind bushes, up in trees, anywhere a young child could hide. They covered the entire block, each man calling his name, with no response. When they came back to the vehicle, Jeff shook his head. "I don't understand it. There are only two ways he could have disappeared so fast – either he went inside someone's house, or he got in somebody's car."

"If it was someone's house, it would have to be close," Stu surmised.

"Let's start door to door then," Jeff instructed. "Stu, you take that part of the block, Kookie, you head over there. I'll handle from here on down the street. Let's hope we get lucky."

XXXXXXXX

David didn't know who the men were, only that they were probably helping his mother look for him. Instead of running in someone's house he ran behind the shed that sat at the rear of Mr. Simmons property. He knew he should probably let one of them find him, but he was mad at his mother for always telling him no. He had this dia-whatever it was, but he didn't understand it, no matter how many times she explained it to him. All he knew was that no matter what everyone else was eating, he couldn't participate. It wasn't any fun being a six-year-old who had to eat apples instead of apple pie, fresh strawberries instead of strawberry tarts, and NOTHING chocolate.

So he hid out behind Mr. Simmons shed until he couldn't hear them anymore. Then he came out slowly, stealthily, until he could see their car was gone. Being out here by himself was boring, but it was better than being told NO.


	4. Chapter 4

The Peanut Butter Caper

Chapter 4

"Elizabeth, can we speak with you?" Jeff asked.

"What is it? What's wrong? Has something happened?" That note of panic had begun to creep back into her voice.

Stuart shook his head. "That's just it. We've got nothing. We've checked every place we could, Elizabeth, and there's simply no trace of him. It's almost as if he vanished."

"We just can't find him. He's got to be out there somewhere, but so far we've had no luck."

Before Jeff could continue, the phone rang. "Fowler residence. Who? Yes, of course. Just a moment." Elizabeth handed the phone to Jeff. "Lieutenant Gilmore."

"Yeah, Gil. No, not so far. Who? Yes, I know who you mean. When? Who saw him? I see. They did? And that didn't scare him off? No, I know. We're going back out now. Alright, thanks."

"Stu, Kookie," and Jeff led the way to the front yard.

"What don't you want the little dude's momma to hear?" Kookie asked.

Jeff said only two words, and Stuart blanched. "Miles Milney."

"That's who Gil called you about?"

"It is. He was seen two blocks over about an hour ago."

"Dads, who is this Milney cat?" Kookie had never heard the name before.

"He's the badest of the bad," Jeff answered.

"That doesn't . . . "

"He's a pedophile, Kookie. He's been picked up three times but nobody will testify against him. Little blonde boys are his specialty," Stu sill looked sick as he explained it to Kookie.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go find the little dude before Milney does."

Elizabeth had walked quietly out on the porch, and the three men spotted her when they turned to tell her they were leaving again."I don't know what it is, but I'm going with you. "

"No, Elizabeth, you can't, " Jeff insisted.

"Jeff, nothing can be as bad as my sitting in the living room waiting. I'm going with you."

Stu and Jeff looked at each other. They were wasting time arguing. "Mrs. Fowler . . . " Stu tried.

"If you don't take me I'll follow you, Mr. Bailey."

"Did you lock the front door?" Jeff asked.

"Yes."

Jeff sighed. They couldn't talk about Miles Milney with Elizabeth Fowler in the car. But they'd never find him with her following them. "Let's go then."

Jeff drove; Elizabeth sat in the front passenger side. Stuart sat in the back seat behind Elizabeth, Kookie sat behind the driver. The three men were searching frantically for Miles Milney car; Elizabeth, blessedly oblivious to the extreme urgency of the situation, simply wanted to find her little boy. Jeff drove up and down every street; none of the four spotted what they were looking for.

Then, at last, Stu saw the car. A forty-eight Chevy of questionable color, it was parked at the end of Mayfair Street. Jeff parked one block over, Diamond Avenue, then told Kookie, "Keep Elizabeth here. No matter what."

The partners sprinted across yards until they were out of sight of their car, then pulled their guns and continued as quietly as possible as they approached the Chevy. Milney appeared to be reading something and didn't see the P.I.'s approaching. Jeff pulled the driver's side door open, Stu the passenger side. There was no one in the car but Milney . . . no little blonde boy, or child of any kind. Milney started to open his mouth to yell but shut it quickly when he felt Jeff's gun in his side. "We know who you are Milney, and what you are, so just give us a reason. Pop the trunk."

"You cops can't treat me this way," Milney whined.

"We're not cops," Stu told him with a grim smile.

Milney had nothing further to say. The only thing he had to hold over their heads, that they were police and were subject to certain rules and regulations, had just been taken away from him. Not knowing who these two were, and that they had rules and regulations of their own to follow, had convinced him to keep his mouth shut. He made his way out of the front seat and back to the trunk, which he opened after some fumbling with the key. The trunk was empty. "Close it and get back behind the wheel," Stu told him.

When he was in the driver's seat again it was Jeff's turn to sound grim. "Go find another neighborhood to prowl. We're gonna be in this one waiting for you."

Milney started the engine and roared away from the two P.I.'s, never looking back. Stu and Jeff holstered their weapons and went back to Diamond Avenue. Kookies face was one big question mark, so Jeff gave him a big smile and shook his head. "False alarm."

"Now what, dads?"

"Elizabeth, are there any elderly ladies in your neighborhood? And any that David seems particularly fond of?" Stuart asked.

"One or two," she answered.

"Who would that be?"

"Let's see, Mrs. Rawlings, she's two doors down from us, and Mrs. Macintire, right across the street."

"Are they widowed or married?" Jeff inquired

"Mrs. Macintire is widowed, Mrs. Rawlings is married."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Jeff asked his partner.

"Probably," Stu replied.

Jeff drove back to North Hollywood street. "Which one is the Rawlings place?"

"That blue one. 167 North Hollywood."

"Stuart, shall we?"

"I believe so, Jefferson." Jeff pulled up in front of the Rawlings house; he and Stu got out of the car.

"Kookie, take Mrs. Fowler home."

"Aye, aye, dads!"

"Why are they going to the Rawlings? Someone's been there already," Elizabeth asked Kookie.

"If I knew the answer to that, little dude's mama, I'd be the P.I.," was Kookie's purely logical reply.


	5. Chapter 5

The Peanut Butter Caper

Chapter 5

Five minutes passed, then ten, and Elizabeth and Kookie sat in the Fowler living room waiting for something to happen. When almost fifteen minutes had gone by the front door suddenly opened and a rambunctious six-year-old boy came running in, clutching a cookie in his hand. "Mommie, mommie, look what I gots!" and he held the cookie up proudly, for all the world to see.

His mother let out a squeal that could be heard up and down the block and enveloped him in her arms. "Oh, David! Where have you been all this time?"

"Perfectly safe with Mrs. Rawlings in her basement," Stu proclaimed as he followed David in the door.

"Playing Parcheesi," added Jeff, coming in behind his partner.

"But we checked the Rawlings house!" Kookie protested.

"I'll bet you talked to Mr. Rawlings, didn't you?" Stuart asked.

Kookie nodded, possibly the only time in his entire life he was lost for words.

"So did we. It seems Mr. Rawlings thought his wife was in the basement by herself sorting old clothes to give to the Salvation Army. Actually she was down there eating cookies and playing Parcheesi with young Mr. Fowler. He was quite surprised when he found what she was actually doing," Jeff explained.

"Cookies? How many have you had, young man?" Elizabeth asked her son.

"Just this one, honest, mommie," the young man protested.

"And I suppose it's peanut butter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled. "Let's test your blood first. Then, if it doesn't look too bad, you can have the cookie."

All three men headed for the door. "Wait a minute, please. Let me take care of this before you go."

They stopped, and in just a few minutes David was in the kitchen happily munching his cookie while his mother led Bailey and Spencer out onto the porch. "I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. I might have lost my boy forever if it weren't for the three of you." She leaned over and kissed Kookie on the cheek, then Stu, and finally, Jeff. "If you'll send me a bill I'll pay it happily."

For once, when they got back to the office, Stu took a seat in Jeff's office. "Are you going to send her an invoice?" Stuart asked.

"Sure am. And on it I'm going to mark _Paid in Full."_


End file.
